The Clock

Life is so simple, yet its complications are vast,
We have but a short time, our days will not last.

I lift my gaze to the hands on the wall,
They move without stopping, they know not to stall.

They tick so steadily, they move with such grace,
Spinning in circles on the sheer quartz face.

While two move by slowly, the third one speeds on,
Encouraging the others to move right along.

I will them to stop, for any short time,
But I’m quite aware that that power is not mine.

So onward they move, paying no mind to my plea,
And I sigh as they spin, not waiting for me.

One more time I beg, it’s such a small prayer,
If they could just be willing to share

Their wondrous power, to show time’s speed,
I wish I could live without following their lead.

And then, to my shock, I see something strange,
All hands are groaning, and slowing in pain.

I stare and wonder; has my wish come true?
The clock seems to answer…



I’m waiting for you.